


Manners

by CoconutRum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Will Graham, Hannibal is an arrogant git, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Murder Husbands, Restraints, Showers, Top Hannibal Lecter, Topping from the Bottom, Voyeurism, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: Will makes an attempt to catch Hannibal in his home.Wicked fail.Hannibal teaches Will some manners.Ch1 Voyeurism...Will sees Hannibal jacking off in the showerCh2 Hannibal strings Will up and has his wicked way with him.All consensualA delicious little plot-bunny prompt, courtesy of the ever talented Zillabean!This is a distant cousin of the piece "Forgiveness"
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 31
Kudos: 363
Collections: NSFW Hannigram





	1. Steam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zillabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillabean/gifts).



> A second collaboration with the wickedly wild and sultry Zillabean! Thank you for the inspiration.  
> I own nothing.  
> Safe and consensual sex is hott, peeps.
> 
> Edit: censored but sensual work by zillabean here: https://www.deviantart.com/zillabean/art/OOPS-again-857734076
> 
> NSFW version here: (twitter: rexxalicious)  
> https://mobile.twitter.com/Rexxaliciouss/status/1315124686510977024
> 
> Zilla/rex is magnificently talented, and has been most flattering and generous in bringing my words to life. THANK YOU! My smexy partner in hannigram crime!!

Heavy steam wafted through the hallway, fogging Will’s glasses.

“Fuck,” He whispered, hastily removing his spectacles to wipe them on his shirt.  
Vision restored, he continued; the scent of sandalwood and musk permeating his nose.

“Catch the lion in his den,” Graham thought to himself as he padded along the teak wood floor, his gun steadied in both hands.

As the brunette tiptoed into the bedroom, he couldn’t help but gawk a little. 

There was a stunning, ebony, 4 poster bed, covered in a deep crimson duvet, with a steel grey throw at the foot of it. A plush, Persian rug (likely authentic and bought at an obscene price) covered the expanse of the floor, leading to ceiling high, arched windows. The walls were sparse but tastefully decorated with abstract art, some of which was recognizable as Hannibal’s own work. 

The shower thrummed as Will crept towards the door; more steam billowing around him. He wiped his glasses a second time, cursing himself for not wearing contacts...typical idiot move as a cop, he chided himself.

He turned the corner, stepping into the washroom.

Through the fog, he made out the blurred shape of a luxurious clawfoot tub; and to the left, an impressively tall and amply wide shower stall. 

Will’s mind suddenly dumped ice water onto itself as his breath caught in his throat...acknowledging the audacity of what he just walked into.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?!” he nearly muttered.  
“Wait...what the actual fuck ARE you thinking??” He took a breath, struggling a bit in the thick steam.

“Did you actually think you’d catch the bastard...pull him out of the shower, naked; bring him in to the station, and just tell the boys ‘I saved you the trouble of the strip search?!”

Will stared at the floor, his mind racing.

“Shit, yeah, that’d go over *so* well, Graham…Pfft...right…” He squinted at the shower. 

Through the glass, he could make out Hannibal’s silhouette. He noted that the glass wasn’t nearly as fogged as his glasses; surmising it must just be another luxury of the wealthy.

His mind took in the vision before him.

He had never really noticed just how muscular the man was. His skin, shining and glistening in the hot water looked smooth and taught in all the right places. 

When the hell did he have time to work out? The flat planes of his chest, perfectly framed the apex of his sternum; delicate lines of his ribs transitioned to rippled muscle along his sides, like a swimmer, Will thought. He even had that youthful, yet masculine abdominal divide, and stunningly deep grooves shaping the V of his…

“Ngh!!” Will swallowed whatever sound his body was intent on making, trying to ignore the sudden twitch in his pants.

He held his gun in a vice grip, leaning against the far wall. Thankfully, the shower spray seemed loud enough to stifle his near mishap; but he couldn’t ignore a pesky blush creeping over his cheeks.

Will watched, as Hannibal scrubbed a soap bar across his long torso, up over his chest, down behind his neck. His glossed body appeared dreamlike given the steam and afternoon sun. 

His cock gave another interested bob.

Almost provoked by his own body, Graham crept over to the foot of the tub, and knelt, watching, trying to configure his point of attack; his head swimming.

Hannibal’s large hands were lathered and slick; his long fingers massaging his scalp. Will saw him arch his head back into the spray, those dark, wide lips slightly parted. 

Large, firm hands slid down his sides to massage what Will concluded were...rather strong, shapely looking legs. They looked powerful. 

The brunette sank to his knees; chest pressed to the edge of the tub. 

Lecter replaced the soap in it’s dish, and ever so slowly, his hands drifted down to his dick. He gave his cock a few languid strokes, a moan echoing in the tiled room.

Blood rushed to Will’s cock. He found his breath coming hot and fast. 

The doctor rocked his hips through his own fist, gaining speed; his eyes rolling up into his head as he arched his back, canting his pelvis forward.

Will froze. His heart as loud as the shower in his ears.

It was like a train wreck; he couldn’t look away. But this was the furthest thing FROM a train wreck! More like the boiler room!

His mind reeled. 

When the hell did he acquire feelings for his shrink?! Was it *because* he was his shrink? Maybe he should ask him...wait...NO! What?!!

Graham screwed his eyes shut, and let a hand palm his tenting pants, just to adjust it a bit. The delicate friction sent electric current through his entire length. 

“Just calm yourself down, Graham,” Will’s rational brain-cells whispered.  
They were then promptly, and not so subtly, squashed by his libido.

“You’re watching your shrink jack himself off for Chrissake!” Will tried to steady his breathing. “Pull yourself together, damnit!” 

It was useless. Will’s body fought for autopilot as Hannibal began to pant; the wet suction sounds against his cock all the more accentuated with the acoustics of the room. His strokes were coming faster; his voice emitting deep, gravelly grunts and mewls. 

Will carefully set his gun on the floor, spreading his own legs; knees grinding on the cold tile. One hand gripped the tub while the other rubbed and cupped and squeezed. 

“This is so...wrong…” he attempted to tell himself. But his rational mind was receding to the background of his psyche as his own hips began to rock. 

The doctor was thrusting in earnest; slapping wet flesh on flesh. His eyes were shut tight, his body rigid. 

The sounds were driving Will mad. His hand began to rub in time to Hannibal’s strokes; both men coming undone.

Will bit his lip, anticipating Hannibal’s climax as the man’s ass clenched; the sight alone nearly sending Will over the edge.. 

To his surprise though, just as Will thought he would come, the man stilled -- pressing one hand to the shower wall, to steady himself, breathing heavily.

Graham’s mind went blank for an instant before flooding with the acknowledgment of horrendous pain coursing through his cock.

Gripping tighter on the tub, he took a sobering breath.  
“Edging??” he thought. 

He watched, trying to breathe through his nose, as Hannibal turned his face to the spray, leaning forward against the wall, shoulders quivering.

“He didn’t even finish, and now I’m stuck here with…”

His mind did a magnificent backflip as it righted itself, seeing the doctor go to turn off the shower. He was stupidly, and acutely aware of the very real possibility Hannibal may catch him in his own bathroom, in a rather compromising position. 

“But he’s hard as a rock...if he caught me, I could finish him off…’’ Will’s eyes bugged out of his head in simultaneous acknowledgment and banishment of that sudden thought.

This was not his design. 

His cock twitched, as though to not so subtly contradict him.

As Hannibal rubbed his hands over his face, Will dove across the floor, scrambling out of the room, nearly slipping on the tile, praying his attempt to be silent wasn’t just foiled.  
He stumbled back into the bedroom, valiantly attempting to re-wire his brain.

Breathless, he frantically searched for a place to hide; settling for a place behind the corner of the wall that jutted out between the main door and the bed.

Furiously trying to slow his heart-rate, he saw Hannibal emerge from the washroom.

The man stood, godlike, in the watery light; a towel draped over his shoulders, the ends dangling just above his nipples. Such a classical European look about the man; Adonis in his bedroom; dripping with sexual prowess. 

Will’s mouth went dry.

Hannibal stretched his neck to one side, removing the towel, and using it to dry his pecs; his abs, and behind his balls. His legs flexed, as he did so; beads of water glinting on his chest hair.  
His dick was a dusky pink; at least half hard, swaying as he moved.

Graham’s own cock was throbbing.

He watched the doctor place the towel on the bed, then go to an impressive walk-in closet; his spectacular (*carved from marble) ass now front and center of Will’s vision, as he assessed his options.

The doctor selected a hunter green suit, with a corresponding shirt, belt, socks and tie, laying them neatly over a chaise-lounge near to the bed.

His back still to the young profiler, Lecter carefully selected an aftershave from his dresser-top, massaging the oil into his jaw and neck.

Pressing himself to his shield of a wall, Will inhaled deeply, swearing it was mixed with pheromones. Nothing ‘naturally’ smelled like that. The scent alone made him want to jump out of hiding, throw the doctor to the sheets and…

“No! This is a job, you stupid, useless…” he scolded himself frantically searching for signs he had given himself away.

Hannibal opened another bottle, greased his palms, and ran his hands through his hair; ever artfully tousled.

He assessed himself in the vast mirror; chiseled cheekbones glowing pink from the hot water and his prior ministrations. His treasure trail softening to a sleek golden hue as it dried. He reminded Will of a wild cat; muscled, instinctual and deadly.

The older man sauntered over to the chair, assessing his clothing. He picked up his tie, studying the pattern.

Graham had to move; the man was getting dangerously close to...well...basically stepping on him.

The profiler drew a few deep breaths, closing his eyes for a few counts, steadying himself.  
3...2...1…

Will darted around the corner, landing in a fighter’s stance, gun drawn. 

But the doctor was nowhere to be seen.

Graham’s heart rate fluttered as he leaned over a bit to peek around the corner of the washroom.

“Where the Hell did…”

Out of nowhere, fabric was dragged across his eyes, blinding him; his body pulled flush up against a massively muscled form; cock pressing against his ass.

He dropped the gun in shock, his mind holding on to what little it could comprehend.

An arm wrapped possessively around his chest; his captor leaning into his neck, deeply inhaling the scent of him.

“Hello, Will.”


	2. Etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will makes an attempt to catch Hannibal in his home.  
> Wicked fail.  
> Hannibal teaches Will some manners.
> 
> Ch1 Voyeurism...Will sees Hannibal jacking off in the shower  
> Ch2 Hannibal strings Will up and has his wicked way with him.
> 
> A delicious little plot-bunny prompt, courtesy of the ever talented Zillabean!  
> This is a distant cousin of the piece "Forgiveness"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second collaboration with the wickedly wild and sultry Zillabean! Thank you for the inspiration.  
> I own nothing.  
> Safe and consensual sex is hott, peeps.

Will was gasping for air, despite having nothing constricting his throat. His adrenaline had simply skyrocketed.

He stood, stark still; his body letting the warmth of his captor seep through his clothes.

“Now,” Hannibal drawled, clapping a hand over Will’s shoulder and pushing him forward, “I believe you need to learn some manners.”

Graham was dumbstruck.

His overactive imagination was threatening to pull him apart with frighteningly real repercussions as well as delicious fantasies of where this was going.

He fought to overcome the notion that an incredibly powerful, seductive, dangerous...naked!...man was flush against his own body; and the fact that this stunningly gorgeous body could snap him in two at a moment’s notice. 

Both thoughts made his cock quiver. 

Before he could continue either train of thought, he felt his thighs bump into (what must be) the bed. 

“Please, after you…” Hannibal grabbed Will’s ass, giving it a push, causing him to fall forward onto the pillows.

Will found himself on all fours; quickly turning onto his back, trying to gain a defensive position; but with the blindfold, it was pretty much a stalemate.

A large, firm hand pressed down on his chest, making his heart flip.

Hannibal grabbed a handful of Will’s shirt, and hauled him up into a kneeling position.

“Why the HELL aren’t you putting up a fight?” the profiler internally screamed; “You’re a cop! Fucking defend yourself!”

His dick jumped as he was arched back by the scruff of his neck, a hot wet stripe traveling from collarbone to jawline.

“Mmmmh,” the doctor hummed against his skin; holding him there, petting down his abdomen, cupping his ass, rubbing his sides.

The brunette reached out, both hands landing on Lecter’s shoulders.

“Doctor Lecter…” he moaned. His brain fully aware of his idiotic lack of self-preservation.

“Shhhh.” Hannibal nipped his ear as he took both Will’s hands in one of his.

The sound was calming. An animal being soothed before slaughter.

Will felt the man’s other hand at his belt, undoing his cuffs. He gave a pitiful wriggle of protest, making a half-hearted effort to stand.

Lecter’s teeth clamped down on the juncture of Will’s neck and shoulder, making him wince.

“Now,” he clipped one cuff loosely over one of the smaller man’s wrists, “Don’t rush me, darling” the second cuff snapped into place.

The younger man’s thoughts swam through the gutter; cock raging, still confined to his (now suffocatingly tight) pants.  
What the hell was wrong with him? (*Plenty*...he reminded himself.) 

The tie was removed from his eyes; leaving him squinting stupidly as Hannibal pulled Will’s belt from its confines. The sound of leather sliding on fabric, not to mention the visual...sent Will’s heart into a stuttering rhythm.

Their gazes locked. Liquid hazel on cerulean blue.

Lecter’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth a flirtatious smirk as he stood; his deliciously musky cock now dangling at the level of Will’s mouth.

The brunette licked his lips; hopelessly abandoning all rational thought of escape. 

Hannibal hauled Will’s arms upward, leaving his elbows only slightly bent, and neatly fastened the belt to a sturdy crossbeam across the square perimeter spanning the 4 posts. 

Will felt his ribs expand, his shoulders raise and his back arch slightly as he tried to distribute his weight evenly between his arms and legs. His knees splayed a bit to keep his balance.

The doctor leered down at him.

“Is this what you had in mind, Will?”

Graham gawked. What was he supposed to say? “Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve often fantasized about my psychiatrist stringing me up like a piece of meat and devouring me...yeah…” he thought, abashedly; although, his cock twitched in approval.

All he actually managed was a humiliating shake of his head.  
“Really, now?” Hannibal quirked an eyebrow in mock surprise as knelt again, facing Graham. He tossed his tie back onto the chaise, and began to card his fingers through Will’s hair.

Heat radiated from him; he smelled of sweat, sandalwood and sex.

“I would think, as a cop, and profiler, you would have shown a bit more etiquette in your approach, Mr. Graham.”

Hearing the words *Mr. Graham.* from Hannibal’s mouth, Will suddenly felt like the (all too horny) naughty schoolboy caught jacking off by his professor. 

The doctor made embarrassingly quick work of Will’s pants, roughly pulling his boxers down over his highly sensitive cock; followed by unbuttoning the young man’s shirt.

The brunette flinched at the abrasiveness, precome already leaking like he was a teenager.

Hannibal took Will’s cock and gave it an experimental squeeze, watching his captive.

Graham groaned, canting into the grip,

“Oh is this about you, now, Mr. Graham?” he chuckled darkly, staving off blood flow at Will’s base. 

The profiler gaped at the assault.

“I thought...after all, it was *you* who so rudely interrupted *me* in the shower…”

Graham’s eyes flew open, shocked.

“Oh yes,” Hannibal continued, the tendons of his forearm flexing as he pumped the younger man, “Humans give off a very distinctive scent when they’re aroused.” He paused, moving his hand to Will’s sac, assessing its weight.

“Both your adrenaline and arousal mingled in the steam were a dead give away, Mr. Graham,”  
There was that blasted school boy blush again.

“But, despite the obviousness, and even flattery of your arousal,” 

(“ONLY Hannibal would preen like that at someone’s sexual attraction to him,” Will thought.)

“I consider your plan to be poor form, Will. Etiquette is the key to human psychology.”  
The doctor then leaned in, pressing a searing kiss to Will’s lips, before laying down, and gliding his body between Graham’s legs.

Will’s body began to take over for his brain. He pulled on his restraints, pressing up on his knees to allow room for the older man; careful not to let his full weight down until the doctor settled beneath him.

“Now Will,” the doctor drew a bottle from the bedside table, slicking his cock with it’s contents, “You and I are going to have a conversation…about etiquette.” 

His fingers gently rubbed at the younger man’s entrance, testing the puckered ring of muscle.  
Graham’s head fell back; his body clenching slightly at the intrusion. 

“Shhhh…” The doctor quickened the pace of his hand. “We are going to start from the beginning.” He pressed a second digit into the smaller man.

“Why did you come here, Mr. Graham?” his voice was low, dangerous.

“To...to see you…” Will managed, feeling the fingers twist inside him. 

“And would you consider your approach, polite, or professional Mr. Graham?” he pinched one of the man’s nipples between two sharp nails. 

“Ahh!...Nngg…” the brunette stuttered, his body curling inward; his shoulders burning.

“I said, was that polite, Mr. Graham?” he dragged his nails down Will’s ribcage.

“Mmmph….N...No...it wasn’t,” he gasped.

Lecter removed his fingers, earning a sigh from Will; hands now roving over the young, supple body hovering over him.

“I have you tied like a deer I’m going to bleed,” the doctor’s eyes glittered in the waning sunset. “You are quite the specimen, Graham.” fingers kneaded at globes of flesh, parting his cheeks.

Will’s hair was sticking to his face, his glasses fogging, yet again, this time from the heat coming off of him. 

“Tell me, Mr. Graham, “ the doctor gave his own cock a few strokes, bringing him to full hardness, “Is there something you came for tonight?”

The profiler’s head was spinning. Through his slitted eyes, he could see Hannibal, languidly pumping himself; a sheen of sweat making him nearly glow like some sex-deity.

“I came for...for you…” Will rasped. His own cock threatening to explode at the slightest touch.

Lecter aligned himself with the younger man.

“Oh not yet, darling,” he rocked his hips upward, hissing as he sank into Will’s heat, “But you will.” 

Fully sheathed, Hannibal stilled completely, bringing his hands over the young man’s hips.  
Graham was shivering. He waited for Lecter to move, his muscles clenching and throbbing in anticipation. 

“Because you so rudely interrupted my...affairs, earlier…” the doctor took a steadying breath, pressing his nails into Graham’s pelvis,” Proper etiquette dictates, it’s only ‘fair,’” he rocked upward roughly to emphasize his point, delighting in the hitch in Will’s throat “you finish what you started.” 

Hannibal waited, patiently staring up at his prey.

Will bared his teeth, every fiber of his being fighting to not spontaneously combust; he slowly raised himself up, feeling Lecter’s length being pulled through him, hilt to tip, before lowering back down, fully enveloping him again. 

His inner walls felt seared, adjusting to the sensation. Without the use of his hands, his body felt devoid of its usual means of grounding himself. His cock was left mercilessly to bob and stick to his belly as it continued to leak glistening streaks across his skin.

“That’s it, good…” Hannibal pressed his head back into the pillows as Will picked up speed. His fingers squeezing soft handfuls of flesh as the man moved on him. 

The profiler’s legs shook with effort as he rode the older man; hips rolling, pivoting and grinding in short bursts each time he sank down. His hands gripped the belt suspending his form, now slick with sweat; the cuffs grazing the skin as they chaffed along his forearms.

“Yessss….” Hannibal hissed through gritted teeth; starting to buck and writhe, losing control.  
He grabbed at Will’s cock, again squeezing at the root; his other hand pulling him down to him with every decent 

The doctor keened, as Will’s movements became erratic, both men nearly vibrating; hovering at the edge. 

Lecter stared up at the young man; his body glowing pink in its restraints, his face contorted in a fit of self control, hair plastered to his forehead, and the lithe form pounding up and down on his cock, riding him like a pretty little whore. 

Hannibal’s body convulsed, shooting himself into Will’s warm walls. 

He saw the brunette twitching with effort, nearly sobbing with restraint.

Lecter released the younger man’s dick.

“Come for me, Mr. Graham.”

Will shook through his release, clenching around Hannibal’s softening cock as he came.

Panting, Hannibal removed himself from the bed, and made quick work of cleaning them both up. 

Graham’s brain was in a fog; still recovering from the severity of his release.

He looked up, meeting Hannibal’s gaze, feeling slick fingers at his entrance again.

“Now Will, “ the doctor pressed something large and blunt to the young man’s hole. Graham looked down to see a dark blue, silicone bulb in Lecter’s grasp. “I thought I’d provide you with something to keep you...warm...until I return.”

The profiler began to protest, but could barely find his voice! His mind flew from its fogged pool to the crisp air of the surface.

“Return??” He gasped, feeling the flared base reach its limit within him; he bowed his head.  
“From where?” he managed.

Hannibal flitted about the room, dressing hastily in the clothes he had laid out for himself. 

“I have company arriving shortly, for dinner,” he smirked at the look of horror on Graham’s face, “I thought you may want a while longer to...adjust...before our next session.” 

The brunette gave a tug on his restraints; his whole body feeling exhausted.

“Oh, and do keep quiet, Mr. Graham. This room is positioned directly above the dining area. I would hate for there to be any...distractions.” 

“And what am I to do in the meantime?” Will glowered; both titillated and aghast that he was being held hostage in a serial killer’s bedroom.

The older man removed a small cylinder from his pocket, his thumb hovering over a button at one end. 

Will held his breath.  
There was a manic glint in the man’s eye as he answered Will’s question.

“*Enjoy* yourself…” 

The doctor pressed the button; nearly sending Graham onto the ceiling as he felt his inner walls buzzing with a gentle electric current. His eyes were wide, and nostrils flared, as Lecter wordlessly *dared* the young man to protest.

A second click of the button and the buzzing ceased; leaving Will sagging in his bonds.

“Don’t worry, I’ll send Abigail in to check on you throughout the evening,” the older man quipped, checking his tie in the mirror, “Your restraints are perfectly safe; albeit, deliciously uncomfortable,” he said, pocketing the cylindrical remote control. 

Graham caught his breath; both incensed and wickedly aroused at his circumstances.

Satisfied with himself in the mirror, Hannibal leaned down to whisper in the young man’s ear before turning on his heel to meet his guests.

“Don’t stain the sheets.”


End file.
